Tuesday 29 December 2015

Real deal

Following brief interlude normal service returns. Probably the last trip of the year on the Syndicate middle beat. Long straight, Bungalow bend,  Church straight or Beck bends? Up to the Beck. Red kite shows itself, confirmed by walker with bins.


Light going quickly as the spinney shades the low sun, think I will just move the bottom rod a shade down to that spot that has been calling for the last ten minutes. Snagged? No, fish on! It's taken a shine to half a sardine and makes several surges before burying itself in the net . Strange lack of flesh, healed over round the left eye. Hooked just in scissors again. Goes  14.02. Job done and off  the water by 4.15


s

taster





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Norfolkcestertshire Police today took their usual hamfisted approach in lukewarmly releasing this photophat image of a local pike botherer who they wish to interview regarding a recent rash of large headed gentlemen appearing on MOTD. They warned dog walkers, geo-cachers and Hoorrays back down from Oxbridge for vacs only to approach him with large quantiities of salt in case he regale them with sightngs of red kites at Oxnead and daffodils flowering in December in Sheringham (everyone knows they are at Beeston Regis).
Bureboy, 79 and father of 27 retorted "I have not got a large forehead and busted nose like that dyke jumper Van de Gaal, or two huge wasp chewing bulldog jowls like Big Sam Liqorice Allsorts..." He denied owning every known release of The Man Whose Head Expanded by those Mancunian tosspots The Fall. . And that he ever wore Derriboots or has the same hairline as Steve Pastie Faced McDonald from Coronation Chicken Street.
"In my weak, non existent defence", he mumbled,"..,you try keeping still for a 20 second self timer release. I have never before, and will never be photographed again with two eyes open simultaneously."

Sunday 20 December 2015

Quick sticks

Not quite shirtsleeves but certainly no thermals or coat needed for a quick afternoon on the Bure. Steady push, slight tinge, looking spot on. Classic stalemate as member below wanting to fish up back  to the car, me wanting to fish down.  We politely ignored each other in the end..

These are my favourite poplars and a lovely near solstice sky.


Only one show of interest on a halved sardine on the far margin and this little un was the result.



Fiery glow to round off the afternoon as I made the short trip back to the car. Liverpool the latest names to feel the winds of change round the Premier League. Topsy turvy times to be sure.


Wednesday 16 December 2015

The postman always knocks

The postman can knock as many times as she/he wants as long as these offerings are coming my way....




A stunning print from Two Terriers  up there in Zanderland, thanks John and Sue. Tangles with Pike and Crooked Lines by Dominic Garrett which deserve a sit down with a lovely Adnams Single Malt No 1 (or three). And some Essex Scribbler soundage to brighten up my journeys in my new Bureboy charabanc. No listing so a little mix of delights to discover.

The envelope from the Scribbler is addressed to Strange man with fat heeed. Which the postie unerringly sent my way. Strange that. Think we should all send all letters addressed with such minimal postal clues.

Saturday 5 December 2015

Storm force

Wind lashed Norfolk living up to the shepherd's warning red dawn. Glass reads 29 and 3/4. Weather App says 47 mph. Dodgy car temp reads 11 C. Been given a pass out so too good to  miss. One problem. Inner turmoil meant that replicating Lineker's shameless arse wiping along the centre circle turf, or Radcliffe's disgraceful mid marathon street shite was a distinct and present danger.

Not one for quackery usually I readily reached out for the Commander in Chief's little helpers and skipped lunch.


Suitably reassured set off for the syndicate stretch, slid down  the track and found the least tree lined spot to park. Short battle across the furrows against Storm Desmond's fury.



First put in with a sardine head right at my feet and the wind rattled tip  gave two distinct pulls down. Bait runner ticking and wind into a long, primrose flank twisting right under the tip.  Out into the main push and high hand hold required.
Up on the grass, leeches on the flanks. Hooked in the scissors.  No need for the tripod and grin for this one.



Reggie Cray showing some interest in the downstream sardine tail so
time to move in to the next glide. Gathering gloom, not even 3pm.



Twich the close in sardine tail into the slack and instant response. Again twisting, turning flash. Smaller this time round and a little less clean, but again scissor hooked.


That was it. Sorry Wak, no pictorial evidence of deep personal shame to share....I will however reveal that I have finally bought some Power Gum for stop knots. Only about 40 years behind the curve. It will be braid next.






 

Friday 4 December 2015

Hook, line and sinker

Wak, nothing more depressing than the photo album of a single species angler....(who was that by? )